


Found My Heart

by almosthello, happinesssdeceit (crescenttwins)



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Illustrated, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:25:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almosthello/pseuds/almosthello, https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescenttwins/pseuds/happinesssdeceit
Summary: happinesssdeceit: CUDDLES AND MORNING FLUFFalmosthello: MORE LIKE ATTEMPT CUDDLES AND TSUNFACE BC THIS IS ONE ADORABLE TSUNDERE HELP ME





	

**Author's Note:**

> It started with a [doodle](https://twitter.com/firidus/status/847816331713957889), then in the long ass thread of headcanons and screams, add in a small dare (probably.. not so sure anymore) in between major sleep deprivation and fever and there you have.. this.
> 
> Casual warning, we're not 100% familiar with TOZ. But if anything, we managed to find out that:  
> (SLEEP DEPRIVATION X 1) + (FEVER X 1) + SOYMILK = ASDLKJSADLK;

Sorey awakens slowly, cataloguing the warmth along his side and the gentle puffs of air against the skin of his bare chest. The room, when he opens his eyes, is bright, early morning sunlight filtering through the thin curtains on the window. He shifts slightly to peer at the male resting on his chest, the slightly tickling sensation of hair brushing on bare skin. Mikleo’s pale hair seems to shine against Sorey’s darker skin, as if capturing the attention of the light itself.

Under his scrutiny, Mikleo shifts, pulling himself into a sitting position and revealing an expanse of bare skin that makes something in Sorey’s chest flutter. He turns away from his companion; Mikleo likes a moment to himself in the moments after he awakens, to let his mind shift out of the dreamy state that only sleep can bring. Mikleo luxuriates in it, sleep an indulgence that his body neither needs nor craves.

Letting his legs fall over the edge of the bed, Sorey leans down to pick his pants off of a nearby chair. It’s easy to slip them on over his undergarments, fix the clasp as he considers his belt. Perhaps not yet, Sorey thinks, letting his eyes turn back to Mikleo.

The other male is rubbing his eyes, the dark blue of Sorey’s shirt his only cover with the bedsheets crumpled at the edge of the bed. Half the buttons are done, few enough that Mikleo’s collarbones and neck are bare but his torso and arms are drowned in deep blue. The too long sleeves have been bunched up around Mikleo’s elbows, fabric wrinkling in a way Sorey’s cape will mostly cover when he dresses later. Sorey leans forward to catch one of his bracers as the ring of leather slips off of Mikleo’s arm, laughs as he accepts the second from the seraph without delay.

“Good morning,” he greets, leaning forward to press a kiss across the other male’s cheek. “Have a good sleep?”

“It was better before my pillow moved,” Mikleo says as he tips his head to brush his lips against the corner of Sorey’s mouth.

“How rude of it,” Sorey says.

“I’d say so,” Mikleo says, reaching out to trail a sleep warm finger across Sorey’s lips.

Sorey hums, moves to kneel on the bed and replace the light touch with something more intimate. When they break the kiss, he sits on his heels, watches in delight as Mikleo blinks slowly at him. “Still sleepy, hm?” Sorey says, delighted. He glanced out the window quickly-- still early enough for more cuddles. It is easy to climb further onto the bed, to lean back against the headboard and to tug Mikleo towards him.

He meets resistance.

“We should start getting ready,” Mikleo reminds when Sorey frowns at him. “I need to wake up properly.”

He pushes off the headboard, lets his fingers skim over Mikleo’s thigh where the edge of the shirt falls. When Mikleo stays relaxed, he moves his hand higher, up past a bony hip and lets his palm settle against the curve of Mikleo’s waist. The seraph’s skin is warm against his palm.

“And how would you like to wake up?” Sorey says, voice low.

Mikleo huffs, leans against Sorey, letting his own hand rest against the skin of Sorey’s abdomen. “Probably like this,” he says, Sorey’s only warning before fingers scramble across his ribs.

Suppressing laughter has never been a skill of Sorey’s, not even as he twists away while trying to leverage the fingers he has against Mikleo’s own skin. He fails, mostly, but it is in part because Mikleo has better leverage to swat away his arm and jab at his belly with tickling fingers. Settling against the bedframe was a tactical mistake, Sorey thinks, as he lunges forward to gain more space to move.

Instead of moving away, Mikleo catches him, hands dancing across Sorey’s bare ribcage as he is abruptly cradled against Sorey’s chest.

The larger male doesn’t get the opportunity to enjoy the situation, reflexes leading him to jerk away even as he finally manages to get Mikleo’s laughter to join his own. His breaths feel light and shallow, chest strained as he settles on his ankles, thinking of how he can best pin the other male when--

Abruptly, abruptly, Sorey recalls that they are on a bed, and that there are edges to beds, and blood rushes to his head a moment before a sudden pain erupts at the back of it.

“Sorey?!” Mikleo is leaning over the edge of the bed when Sorey opens his eyes.

“I’m good,” he says in response, pushing himself up to a sitting position on the floor. The pain in his head subsides quickly enough, and he rubs his head sheepishly, smiling up at the other male.

Mikleo eyes him dubiously for a moment, but smiles. “You weren’t quite awake yet either, huh.”

“Hey,” Sorey laughs, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your reflexes are usually fast enough to keep you from landing on your head.”

Sorey tilts his head. “You’re comparing this to ruin exploration?”

“It’s a little funny that you were defeated by an inn bed when the floor collapsing under you didn’t manage it,” Mikleo agrees. The seraph’s eyes are happy, Sorey thinks, in a way that he doesn’t think he’ll ever grow tired of.

“Usually I’m the one helping you out of traps,” Sorey teases, looks up at Mikleo through his lashes. “Kiss it better?”

The smile he gets in return is soft, and Mikleo’s tone even more so. “Fine,” the seraph agrees, an undertone of laughter beneath the word. He gets off the bed, standing over Sorey to press a kiss to the crown of the Shepherd’s head.

Before he can draw away, Sorey loops his arms around Mikleo’s waist, drags him down and into his lap. Mikleo lands a bit awkwardly, one bare leg awkwardly propped up on Sorey’s hip, but he’s warm and pliant and Sorey pulls the other male against him with a hum. He feels Mikleo’s huff of laughter against his chest.

“We’re cuddling on the floor,” Mikleo observes, “when there’s a perfectly serviceable bed right there.”

“You didn’t want to cuddle up there,” Sorey returns cheerfully. “So we can cuddle down here instead.”

Mikleo curls into him for a moment, breathing steadying, and then murmurs, “Am I wearing your shirt?”

“You are,” Sorey confirms. “It’s cute though, so you can keep it on.”

Mikleo pulls away slightly, far enough that he can meet Sorey’s eyes and settle more comfortably against the larger male. “And you think that the floor is an appropriate place to cuddle while we’re half dressed.”

Ah. “Got it,” Sorey says, leaning down to hook an arm under Mikleo’s knees and cradle the seraph to his chest as he stands. “You’d prefer the bed then,” Sorey says. A flush passes over Mikleo’s face, there and gone, and he buries his face against Sorey’s neck as they resettle into the bed.

Mikleo stays pressed against Sorey, even he shifts to tangle their legs together. He’s warm, the heat of him obvious through the thin fabric separating their bare skin, and Sorey reaches to grasp Mikleo’s hand, to lace their fingers together. And it’s warm, they’re warm, and the weight of Mikleo against him is comforting and familiar, even in this foreign place.

Because Mikleo warm and safe, is home, is everything home has and is and will ever need to be.

“Good morning,” Sorey says to the room, and delights in the soft huff of laughter against his skin.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Fic by happinesssdeceit and art by almosthello ([please share](https://twitter.com/firidus/status/847816331713957889) [ on Twitter](https://twitter.com/firidus/status/851195455421665280))! Kudos and comments are adored! <3


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